Starless Night Shall Cover Day
by Elwing-Evenstar
Summary: Elrohir is badly injured in an accident, and must rely on his family and friends to deal with his wounds and the effects they have on him.
1. Sundown

**1. Sundown**

"Come on, Elrohir!" Elladan called over his shoulder as he scrambled up over the rocks, speaking over the roar of tumbling water. "We don't want to miss seeing Eärendil rise!"

"Be patient!" his younger twin replied from several feet below, the light in his silver eyes dancing playfully. "I'm coming!"

They climbed swiftly up the steep wall of the valley of Imladris, where the rock face by the waterfall offered the most hand- and footholds. A cool wind tugged at their hair and clothing, but both elves had a firm grip on the rough stone. They reached the top of the wall and stood up, gazing where the sun's fading light filled the earth and sky with gold. Above, where the gold dimmed to orange, rose and purple, a single bright star flashed into sight.

Both ellyn stood awhile in the gathering shadows, smiling as more stars flickered shyly awake, chased by the rising moon with his crescent grin. Then Elrohir turned and started back down the wall. "We should get back before it gets too dark."

Elladan nodded, following his brother down the wall again at a safe distance. He tensed and paused when he heard a rock dislodge far below him and clatter down. "Elrohir?"

"I'm fine!" came the answering shout from below.

Elladan nodded, more to reassure himself than anything, and resumed his descent. But a scream rose sharply to meet him within minutes, its echoes lost in the voice of the waters.

"_Elrohir!_" he cried out urgently in answer.

He clung to the rocks for a moment, wondering what to do—climb down slowly and risk his brother more harm while sparing himself, or rush down and likely hurt himself while trying to keep Elrohir safe? He closed his eyes, trying to think quickly. Every second he waited was a second he wasted. He would have to hurry.

Elladan scrambled down the rocks, barely noticing as a sharp rock gashed his knee. He lost his footing and fell a few yards before regaining his hold; he had to wait again while he swallowed his heart, which was racing in his throat.

"Elrohir!" he shouted again. "Are you alright?!"

A faint cry wavered up to him. "'Dan… help!"

Elladan felt the sticky wetness of blood on his palms as he continued down the slope. Had his brother really fallen this far? How badly was he hurt? It mustn't be too serious, if he could still speak… He prayed silently to the Valar over and over as he reached the bottom of the wall, falling the last few feet. _Please, please let him be alright!_

He saw his brother's sprawled shadow on the riverbank, and knelt down next to him on his good knee as he groaned softly. Elladan saw with a twist of horror to his stomach that Elrohir's face was marble-white and covered in blood. His once-lovely silver eyes were little more than two gory, blind lumps. A terrible moan escaped his lips as he stretched a shaking, bleeding hand out to his older brother.

"'Dan… I can't see you…"

"I'm right here, 'Ro," Elladan murmured softly, laying a hand on his brother's shoulder. "Are you hurt anywhere else?"

"My ankle hurts… don't think it's broken. Cuts, bruises all over…" Elrohir shuddered as he tried to stand up.

Elladan gently pushed him down again, then pulled off his own tunic. He tore off a sleeve and tied it around Elrohir's face to serve as a crude bandage for his eyes, then ripped the rest of it into strips to bandage the worst cuts. He spoke soothingly as he lifted his brother into his arms and began the long walk back to their father's house.

"You're going to be fine. Adar will take care of you, and so will I. I promise."

-----

Elrohir tried to stop trembling as his brother carried him along the river. He only knew where they were from the muffled sound of the water in his left ear. He felt Elladan's body lurching under him; he must have been injured climbing down as well. Mostly his mind was centered on the pain in his own body.

He wasn't even sure of all that had happened. One minute he was testing his footing on a stone, and then it had broken under him and sent him tumbling. A blind plummet, heels over head and under again, random bursts of pain all over his body; a final breathtaking collision with hard earth and stone, and a stabbing pain in both of his eyes. He had rolled away with what strength he had, and there Elladan had found him.

"Elladan?! Elrohir!"

It was his father's voice, high-pitched with panic. Elrohir felt himself being lifted from Elladan's shoulders and cradled gently in strong arms. His father's hands smelled like athelas, and he was almost immediately calmer as he breathed deeply of the soothing, pungent aroma.

"Get Elladan to the healing wing," he heard his father say. It sounded as though his head was turned to the side. "I'll carry Elrohir."

"Come, Elladan," murmured the voice of Glorfindel nearby.

Elrohir relaxed at the gentle motions of his father's firm, swift stride. He felt like a child again, though he hadn't been one for more than fifty years now. But he knew he was safe and would be cared for, and that mattered most.

-----

Elladan paced anxiously outside the door to the healing wing. It had been scarily quiet in there for hours, and his father had denied him access "until further notice". He knew he needed to sleep, but fear kept his mind reeling. Frustrated, he lifted his hand to his mouth and bit down on his fingers until he felt hot blood dripping down. It didn't make him feel any better.

"Elladan?"

He looked up and turned slowly around, his eyes calming a little as he slowly lowered his hand. "Hello, Naneth."

Celebrían moved quietly toward her elder son and pulled him close to her, bringing out a handkerchief from her sleeve and binding his injured hand without a word. He pressed his face into her chest, knowing she could feel him trembling, but not letting her see his tears. She would be able to feel them as they dampened the fabric of her dress. Slowly Elladan began to relax at the touch of his mother's hands against his head as she stroked his hair.

They both looked up when the door opened and Elrond looked over the doorsill, his eyes weary. "You may see him now."

"Is he alright?" Elladan asked without hesitation.

His father nodded. "He's doing well. The least of his injuries are beginning to heal, but his eyes, I fear, will take much longer." A shade of sorrow clouded his face.

"But they will heal?" The ellon's own eyes were almost frantic with worry.

"I can't tell just yet. They're very badly damaged. But I'll do my best."

"I know, Adar." Elladan's face hid none of his trust.

Elrond smiled, beckoning him forward into the wing. He moved immediately to the bed in which Elrohir lay swathed in clean bandages, his face almost totally covered. Elladan gently picked up his brother's uninjured hand and massaged it gently. "Hey, 'Ro. How do you feel?"

"Awful," Elrohir confessed. "My head feels like it's being hit by hammers. And my eyes hurt so much… Adar's herbs are helping, but they still feel so strange. I can't stand it!"

"I know," Elladan sighed, stroking his hand soothingly. "It'll take some time, but I know you'll be fine. For now, get some rest."

"You should as well," said his mother's voice in his ear, making him jump and look up. Celebrían's face was lined with concern as she absently fingered a lock of her silver hair. Elladan sighed, knowing she was right. But he lingered by his brother's side, reluctant to leave.

He glanced around the room, spotted a chair that no-one was using and quickly carried it to Elrohir's bedside, seating himself and taking his brother's hand again. He watched and waited until Elrohir lay quiet and still in bed, his chest rising and falling gently with each breath, before he too lay back in his chair and allowed himself to sleep.


	2. Darkness

**2. Darkness**

Elrohir had to use all of his patience not to claw at the fabric that covered his eyes as he accepted some hot broth from a healer he couldn't see. His father's words sighed softly in his head: _I'm sorry, ion nin, but you'll have to keep the bandages on until your eyes are fully healed._ He knew that the bandages were black, always black; his eyes would be very sensitive to the light as they began to heal. He saw the logic in that, but did the cloth have to _itch_ so much?

He sipped at the broth absentmindedly, tasting a few different flavors that his aching head wouldn't let him name. The thick, mingled scents of various herbs clotted his nostrils, the strongest of which were athelas and comfrey in the poultices over his eyes. The sounds of the healers bustling about beyond his bed were muted; he could tell they were talking, but couldn't discern any of their words. He felt as if his head was underwater, with his heart pulsing in his ears.

"Elrohir?" This voice was quite close, and he immediately recognized whom it belonged to.

"Glorfindel," Elrohir smiled, sitting up a bit more against his pillows. "How are you?"

"Concerned about you," the unseen voice of his friend answered as a warm, strong hand clasped his gently. "How are you feeling?"

"I could be better," he replied, managing a smile. "But, the Valar bless my father and his knowledge of herbs and healing. I'm definitely better than I was." His headache was all but gone, too, he noticed as he sipped some more of the slightly-cooled broth, in which he now recognized the tastes of garlic and basil.

He slid his hand out of Glorfindel's and reached unthinkingly up to his face, only to have his friend gently pull it down again and hold it.

"Ah-ah! No touching the bandages! I'm under strict orders from your father to force you to leave them alone, by any means necessary." Glorfindel's voice held an obvious laugh; Elrohir imagined the smile that was no doubt playing across his friend's face.

"Well, if he used some different fabric for the dressings, perhaps you wouldn't have to!" he shot back, half-grinning.

"You should have said something sooner," a voice spoke up beyond them, coming closer with the sound of soft footsteps and swishing cloth. "I'll be sure to do something about that."

"Good afternoon, Lord Elrond," Glorfindel greeted him cordially.

"Good afternoon, Glorfindel," Elrond's voice answered. Then, "How are you, Elrohir?"

"Better than I was." He smiled as his father took his hand from Glorfindel's. "How are my eyes faring?"

"Well, let's see…" The stifling bandages were slowly unwound from his face, letting a cool breeze kiss his skin. "Can you see anything?"

"No," Elrohir sighed, blinking carefully a few times. "Not yet."

"I would have been astounded if you could, to be honest," his father told him. "It's only been a few days. But they don't look infected at all."

A slight, warm pressure on his face told Elrohir that Elrond had gently placed his hands there, and a soft tingling indicated the work of the elf-lord's intrinsic healing power. But the actual sensation in his eyes was simply indescribable.

"Le hannon, Adar," he smiled once the feeling had passed, leaving him with a pleasant painlessness in his eyes. _For now_, he thought with a distant stab of bitterness. The pain would always come back.

He heard a soft sigh above him, and felt his father's hand move to rest on his shoulder. "This won't last forever. Your eyes will heal; it will just take time."

"I know," said Elrohir in a small, sad voice, hating to sound like he doubted his father's capabilities.

"Besides," Elrond's voice continued, now from a short distance away, "the real reason I came was to let you know that I'm allowing you to leave the healing wing. Your mother felt that you should have the chance to learn your way around Imladris without seeing it, just so you'll be more accustomed to it once your eyes are healed."

A smile blossomed across Elrohir's face at the happy news as he allowed his father to re-bandage his eyes. "Thank you!"

"You're most welcome," he heard his mother say from a short way away. The voices of his father and Glorfindel greeted her (and Elladan, who was apparently there as well, but hadn't made himself known), and then Elrond spoke up curiously: "Elladan, why are you wearing a blindfold?"

"I didn't want 'Ro to have to suffer alone," said his brother's voice from next to his bed. Elladan's hand picked up Elrohir's and lifted it up to feel the older twin's face. Elrohir's smile faded just slightly as he felt the rough cloth and the thistles bunched beneath it.

"Oh, 'Dan… you didn't have to!"

"I wanted to," Elladan said quietly, massaging his twin's hand. "As your eyes get better, I'll take out the thistles a few at a time. And when you're able to see completely again, I'll make sure we see each other first of all. Alright?"

Elrohir would have wept in gratitude if he could. "Alright."

-----

Living in absolute darkness, Elladan mused, would definitely take a lot of getting used-to. He still wasn't used to it, even after several days. His face burned uncomfortably from the thistles under his blindfold, but he resisted the urge to pull them out and scatter them over the floor. He lay still and quiet in his bed, listening to nocturnal insects humming, leaves whispering, winds stroking earth, water and stone, and Elrohir breathing softly in the bed beside his.

Something tickled his cheek; he moved his hand to brush it away, and felt it crawl onto his finger. It was some sort of insect – a moth, he guessed by the sound of its wingbeats as it took flight again. Elladan smiled quietly. His father had once told him that if he ever saw a moth by him as he went to bed, he would be promised sweet dreams. He snuggled quietly into his blankets, deciding to test the theory, and fell slowly to sleep. His dreams were indeed sweet, filled with bright hues of memory and longing, and his heart ached until they faded into deeper sleep.

He woke sometime later to a very insistent bladder, rose from his bed and groped around underneath it. With a sigh of relief he grasped the brim of a chamber pot and pulled it out, quietly relieved himself, and replaced it before crawling back into bed.

He left the blanket off of himself for awhile, letting the night air cool his body. He briefly wished that he could do the same for his eyes. But that would be too much like cheating, he told himself, and dismissed the idea as he replaced the covers.

After a moment's pause he pushed them off again and rose to his knees on the mattress, bowing his head humbly as he organized his thoughts into a silent plea to those he knew would hear and answer him.

_Valar,_ he prayed, _I thank you for sparing the life of my brother, but meekly plead for your aid in his healing, for his sake and not my own. Every day he suffers in darkness is a day he should be spending free and happy, with the full use of his eyes. My father can do only so much for him, and I fear for the effect this will have upon his mind. If nothing else, I ask that Elrohir be free of pain._

Elladan could think of no way to end his prayer, so he simply lay back down and pulled the blanket over himself yet again. Curling up with his knees against his chest, he turned over to face his brother's bed, listening to the quietude of night, which was not so quiet at all.

A few tears squeezed out of his smarting eyes and made them hurt even more as they slid out from under his blindfold. He brushed them aside anxiously, sighing softly as a breeze carried the scent of lavender and lilacs to his nose. His lips pulled into a smile as his body relaxed, and even the pain in his eyes seemed to diminish as he drifted off again.


	3. Glimmers

**3. Glimmers**

Elrond paced quietly down a moonlit corridor, his mind more clouded than the night sky beyond the wide, open windows to his left. His brow was furrowed with worry for his sons' well-being, and many other happenings besides. He paused for a moment, glancing left and right before closing his eyes and keeping them shut. He kept on walking, but more slowly, focusing his other senses to trust them in lieu of sight. The slight fleeting blockage of the night wind against his body told him when he passed behind a slender column between two windows; when he turned a corner, the rustle of grass underfoot indicated that he was now walking in his gardens.

He stopped and turned, his eyes opening as a voice called out behind him: "Meleth nin?"

His wife smiled as she came toward him, the veiled moonlight glinting softly in her hair and eyes. "Are you coming to bed?"

"Of course," he answered, closing the space between them and wrapping his arms around her. One hand trailed lightly down her back and moved to rest upon her distended abdomen. Elrond smiled, feeling the gentle stirrings of unborn life within her body. She was already a number of months into her pregnancy; it seemed to have taken not long at all.

"Do you think it will be an ellon or elleth?" he asked.

"I can't say," Celebrían replied. "But I would be glad to bear a daughter. It won't be long now." Her hand joined his, and they both wondered silently at this small growing miracle, as they had in the months and weeks before their sons were born. This time was every bit as remarkable as the last one had been.

After a few quiet minutes Elrond pressed his lips to Celebrían's, murmuring into her ear. "Are you coming to bed?"

She smiled and nodded, taking him gently by the arm and walking back inside with him.

--

"How can you _bear_ it?" Elrohir asked in disbelief, his head turned toward where he knew his twin was sitting, facing him on Elladan's bed. "Your eyes itching and hurting, and not being able to see where you're going… doesn't it bother you at all? I know it does me. I hate it." He picked and pulled at some loose threads in the coverlet to vent his frustration.

"Of course it bothers me," Elladan answered, taking his brother's hand in his. "But I'll put up with it for as long as I need to. I made you a promise, remember? I fully intend to keep it." His skin was soft and warm against Elrohir's.

"Yes, I know, but you didn't _have_ to make yourself hurt like that. No-one forced you into a blindfold and shoved a handful of thistles under it," Elrohir frowned. "I didn't have the choice of whether I wanted to be blind or not." His other hand kept picking at the blanket.

"I know," Elladan sighed sadly. "But I told you I'd look after you, and I intend to for just as long as I want." He ran his fingers over the back of his brother's hand as he spoke.

Elrohir shifted slightly to sit on his hip, frowning when he heard the mattress squeaking a bit under his body. "I don't even know how long it's been since that night… I can't keep track of time like this. Everything's bleeding together."

"It's been close to three weeks, or so Adar told me," his brother replied. "It feels like a lot longer, doesn't it?"

Elrohir nodded and leaned back slowly, his hand slipping out of Elladan's as he stretched out upon the bed with his hands clasped underneath his head. "I miss being able to see… if nothing else, I at least want to know when I'm going to fully recover, or if I am at all."

"Adar said you will," Elladan reassured him gently. "I trust he knows what he's doing and saying. I've been praying to the Valar on your behalf, too. I want you to be whole."

Elrohir smiled gratefully, sitting up, moving forward and carefully embracing his brother. "You don't know what that means to me. Thank you so much."

"Don't thank me," Elladan murmured, holding Elrohir close. "Thank the Valar. They've got their eyes on you, and I know they're going to take care of you, just like Adar and I."

--

Elladan made his way carefully down the corridors of Imladris, inwardly counting each step he took. After awhile he paused for a moment, leaning on a wall soaked in sunlight. His skin reveled in its heat, and his heart began to ache. Oh, how he missed seeing the light! He clenched his hands at his sides to keep them from tearing at the bindings over his eyes for just one glimpse of it after nearly a month of total darkness.

"Elladan?" said a curious voice in his ear.

"Hello, Adar." He turned and embraced his father gently, grateful for the diversion from his discomfort. "How are you?"

"I'm fine," Elrond laughed, gently cupping his face with soft, sweet-smelling hands. "And how are you?"

"I'm fine, too," Elladan answered, smiling as he breathed in the aromas of many herbs on his father's hands. "Have you seen Elrohir today? He said he'd meet me by the library."

"Well, you've passed by the library," his father told him. "And Elrohir is with Glorfindel. They're on their way here – I'm going to check up on Elrohir's eyesight."

Elladan nodded, his smile widening as a small bubble of hope formed in his chest. "May I go with you?"

"Of course," Elrond consented. "By all means."

--

Glorfindel walked down the same corridor with a taciturn Elrohir at his side. He couldn't keep his eyes from straying often to the young ellon's half-obscured face, wondering if the eyes beneath the length of dark cloth would show any signs of seeing again. Elrond was very confident in that, and his steadfast hope gladdened Glorfindel's heart. He loved the twins dearly; they were like nephews to him. To watch them suffering in silence was hard on his heart, but still a small flame of hope burned bright within him.

He looked up, his hand finding and squeezing Elrohir's as he spotted Elrond and his elder son up ahead, talking quietly as they stood in the sunlight. Elladan still wore his thistle-stuffed blindfold as a symbol of commiseration for his brother. Elrond smiled and waved them over when Glorfindel caught his eye.

"Good afternoon, Glorfindel," the lord of Imladris greeted him.

"Good afternoon, Lord Elrond," he replied with a dip of his head. "And Elladan," he added, pulling the young ellon close.

A smile graced Elladan's face as he wrapped his arms around the older elf. Glorfindel gently pulled a thin lock of dark hair away from his face, so it wouldn't get caught and tangled under the blindfold. He caught Elrond's eye over Elladan's shoulder, and together the four of them headed off to a room Elrond had prepared for the purpose of testing Elrohir's eyes.

The room was dark, the curtains having been drawn over the windows, but it was not uncomfortably warm. With his keen elven sight Glorfindel could clearly see the chair and small table that had been brought in, as well as a lantern and tinderbox. He waited as Elrond seated Elrohir in the chair, with Elladan standing behind him; then he ignited the tinder and lit the lantern while Elrond removed Elrohir's bandage and poultices. Almost immediately Elrohir gave an elated cry.

"I can see it!"

A look of delight came to Elrond's face. "How much can you see?"

"Not much," Elrohir answered, "it's just a faint glow; but I know where the light is." He got up and carefully moved toward the desk, raising a hand near the small flame, careful to keep from getting burned.

Glorfindel laughed and pulled him into a tight embrace, his joyous eyes on Elrond. Hope sparkled in both elves' eyes; their deepest hopes were at last beginning to come true.


End file.
